The Sidewalk-Burger
by frostygossamer
Summary: Summary: Castiel's mud-monkey pet Dean loves cheeseburgers but he's going to be sorry he ate this one. A oneshot from the Walkies!verse while the sequel to 'A Walkies on the Wild Side' is under construction. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash.


Summary: Castiel's mud-monkey pet Dean loves cheeseburgers but he's going to be sorry he ate this one. A oneshot from the Walkies!verse while the sequel to 'A Walkies on the Wild Side' is under construction. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash.

A/N: You should have read 'A Walkies on the Wild Side' before reading this. If not why not go there now? Warning: Both fics contain some vulgarity.

A/N: This story takes place in an earthlike Heaven where the people are angels and mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

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The Sidewalk-Burger by frostygossamer

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Now that Castiel and his new boyfriend, Gabriel, were officially seeing each other, Castiel had generously offered to take care of Gabriel's bouncy mud-monkey, Sam, while the archangel was on a 'mission' down on Earth. The angel's own more subdued pet mud-monkey was totally fine with this.

Mud-monkey Dean was now Sam's Alpha, and having his Beta around the apartment, and particularly sharing his basket, was turning out to be a lot more fun then he would ever have expected. Dean was learning stuff about boffing that he had never known before. Living alone with his master had meant he had missed out on a lot. Sam was helping him to make up for that.

Needing to pick up one or two things, Castiel planned to take a walk to the local store. To save a little time, he decided to take the two mud-monkeys along with him. There was a nip in the air, but not enough to warrant the boys wearing 'clothes', something they, like most mud-monkeys, both totally abhorred. The angel was glad he wouldn't have to go through the struggle of wrangling them both into winter coats just yet.

As it was their third favourite thing to do, the two muddies were excited about going for a walk, like always. They were getting used to walking together, having learned to walk in step, bodies rubbing up against each other, and not keep pulling on their leashes in opposite directions.

The angel was making good progress toward the store. Dean trotted along obediently, keeping a wary eye open for ne'er-do-wells and reprobates along the route. Sam, always a little more wayward on the leash, kept pace with him while taking every opportunity to eyeball and sniff at anything and everything that might be of the slightest interest. Clever Sam had a probing and curious mind.

They were almost at the turning for Main Street, when Dean spotted something on the sidewalk ahead. At first he reckoned it was a thoughtless turd left by some less scrupulous mud-monkey, but as they drew close his eyes lit up. It was a burger! Or at least a half-eaten burger. But the half that remained uneaten looked perfectly, mouth-wateringly edible.

Food was very special to Dean. Eating was his second favourite thing to do, after all. It was on his mind almost every waking moment. At least those waking moments when he wasn't enjoying fuxy fun with his new friend, that now being his absolutely most favourite thing. Dean's greedy side immediately took over. It was beyond his power to ignore eatable food.

Dean waited until they had caught up with the leftover and then dived on it before his master might intervene. Eagle-eyed Sam noticed his companion dart down and scoop up the suspicious object before Castiel even spotted anything amiss.

"Yum!" mumbled Dean, stuffing the bun whole into the corner of his mouth.

Sam sighed disapprovingly and shook his head.

"You'll be sorry you did that, mudz," he advised.

"Frick why?" Dean mumbled through a mouthful of bread and meat patty. "'S good!"

"You don't NEVER eat stuff off of the sidewalk, mudz," Sam pronounced, authoritatively. "Dunno WHERE it's bin."

"Just bin layin' there on the sidewalk, dude," Dean insisted, swallowing part of it. "Little gritty maybe, but 's freakin' tasty."

Right then Castiel, who had been wandering along in a daydream, became aware of the Muddish patois being muttered at his side. He looked quizzically, first at Sam then at Dean, and immediately saw that the shorter muddie was chawing down on something.

"Ugh!" he groaned. "What HAVE you got in your mouth, Dean? Spit it out right now!" and he gave Dean a disapproving shake of the leash.

Dean guiltily swallowed all that was left of the offending burger and adopted an innocent-looking smile. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Muddies!" he grouched. "Greedy monkeys! Eat anything they can find. Honestly!"

They hurried on to the store, where Castiel tied Sam and Dean to a hydrant until he got his groceries. The boys obediently plopped their bare butts on the sidewalk and waited.

"Dude, you gonna wish you waited for Master to git good food," Sam remarked. "That burger was BAD."

"Was NOT bad," Dean insisted. "Was perfectly freakin' fine. And YUMMY."

But Dean was already starting to wonder if his belly hadn't overruled his head on this one. Still, he wasn't going to admit he was wrong. NEVER! He was Alpha after all, wasn't he? He had a reputation to maintain.

"Sumthin' you learn in kennels, mudz," Sam went on. "Ifn sumthin' gits left in the dirt, it's gotta be NASTY."

"Wasn't nasty," Dean retorted, but now with less certainty. "Bitch-ass! So jealous."

Sam replied with a snort, and that put an end to their discussion. They waited in silence until Castiel re-emerged from the grocery store, his arms full with his purchases.

They all trotted home without further exchange of views.

Later that evening, as Castiel and his muddies sat on the couch watching a little post-dinner Celestial TV, Dean began to have regrets about his earlier actions. His stomach began to churn and growl noisily. Sam, who was laying with his head on Dean's naked thigh, was roused from a doze by the grumbling.

"That you, mudz?" he demanded quietly.

"Nah," Dean retorted. "'S my belly. It didn't much like dinner."

Sam scoffed. "Dinner was fine. That canned mud-food is ALWAYS good. And Master's leftovers were lip-smackin'. Dude, it was that sidewalk-burger."

Dean groaned. "Maybe it was," he reluctantly admitted. "Guess it was a little too freakin' spicy."

"Huh," Sam commented, gleeful at being proved right. "That'll show ya. Sam knows stuff."

After a long restless night, Dean was loath to get out of his sleeping basket in the morning. Castiel, who was running late for work as usual and thinking that he was just being lazy, decided to leave him be. Sam saw the angel off from the window and then wandered over to take a look at his companion. Dean didn't look too good.

"What's wrong, mudz?" Sam asked. "Bellyache agin?"

Dean groaned and rolled over. Sam could now see that his stomach was swollen and sore.

"Ooh, Sam, I feel so freakin' sick," he whined weakly. "Erh, gonna DIE!"

Sam sat down on the floor beside his friend and felt his belly carefully. Dean whimpered under his touch, obviously in pain.

"Not gonna die, dude," he assured Dean wisely. "Good dump's what you need."

"Maybe," Dean agreed, and he stood up gingerly and staggered over to his litter tray.

After five minutes of pathetically pained facial expressions, Dean finally managed to 'express' something in his sandbox.

"Better?" Sam asked, solicitously.

"A little better," Dean commented.

Sam checked out Dean's end product like an expert.

"Ah," he pronounced sagely. "'S what I reckoned. You got yourself freakin' ooh-erh-ms!"

Dean looked shocked. "What the freak? What're 'ooh-erh-ms'?" he demanded, now worried.

"Ooh-erh-ms are critters that live up your butt," Sam informed him. "And they're nasty little critters. They make you sick. Make you go 'Ooooh' and 'Errrh'. 'S why they call them ooh-erh-ms."

Sam had made that last bit up but it made him sound very knowledgeable. It impressed Dean majorly.

He looked alarmed. "How'd ooh-erh-ms git up my butt? Very particular who I share my butt with."

Sam was well aware how particular Dean was about sharing his butt. He felt kind of honoured that Dean deigned to share his pretty butt with him. They didn't need any freeloaders.

"Was that burger, mudz," Sam insisted, triumphant at turning out right. "'S what I said. NUTHIN' gits left on the sidewalk lessun it's freakin' nasty."

"Guess so," Dean nodded sadly, forced to finally agree despite his contrary nature.

He felt a cold panic well up in his chest as a distressing thought occurred to him.

"So whaddo I do now? Master'll take me to the VET," he shuddered. "And the vet angel's got her eyes on my coconuts. Almost snipped 'em last time."

"Don't do nuthin'," answered Sam. "When Master sees THAT squirmy-ass dump he'll sort you out."

Dean wasn't much comforted.

Sure enough, when Castiel came home at the end of his working day, he was alarmed at what he found in the mud-monkey's litter box. He was straight on the phone to the vet. Luckily for Dean, she was able to prescribe pills that would do the trick without a visit to her office. The angel popped out to pick them up and was back in a shake.

Castiel sat down on the couch and beckoned Dean to him. Dean complied reluctantly and sat nervously on the carpet at his feet, butt-cheeks clenched. The mud-monkey worming pills were round and white. Dean eyed the bottle suspiciously as Castiel tipped a dose into his hand.

"OK, it says just place the pill under your creature's tongue," the angel read from the instructions on the bottle.

He pulled Dean between his knees and grasped the muddie's chin in one hand as he attempted to insert the pill in his mouth with the other. Dean resisted, as was proper.

"Come on, Dean," Castiel upbraided him. "This is for your own good. You WANT worms, huh?"

Dean kept his mouth firmly shut. Now Dean was a very strong and very stubborn mudder, but Castiel was an Angel of the Lord, so, after a few minutes of comical wrestling, Castiel finally managed to get Dean's mouth open and pop in a pill. He slapped his hand across Dean's face to prevent him spitting the thing straight out. He counted to twenty and then let go.

"There!" he pronounced jubilantly.

Dean's eyes had gone crossed. When they had uncrossed themselves, he stared at his master defiantly for a moment before, "Pooy" out the offending pill was spat.

Castiel sighed. "You're darn pig-headed when you wanna be, Dean my boy," he complained.

The angel was going to have to try another tack. He went in the kitchen and took a bottle of milk-of-kindness from the fridge. Dean, suspicious yet curious, couldn't help but follow him in the kitchen to see if any food might be in the offing. Just out of professional curiosity, you understand. Despite his churning tummy, Dean's fascination with food always prevailed.

Castiel carefully crushed up a second pill and sprinkled it on a saucer of milk. He placed the saucer on the floor beside Dean. Dean was totally up for a slug of milk, but the instant his tongue entered the liquid, he noticed a strange tang and knew it had been doctored. He jumped back in disgust. To think his Master would SPOIL perfectly good milk! Sacrilege!

"You know, Dean," Castiel chuckled. "You're gonna take your meds, whether you like it or not. I can be as stubborn as you can."

Sam was leaning on the wall beside the kitchen door. His grasp of basic Enochian was way better than Dean's and he pretty much understood what their master was saying. He smirked to himself.

"Dude, may as well take the meds. No point fighting it. Master's SMART. Gonna do you good," he said in Muddish, the mud-money's own tongue.

"It's the principle of the thing," Dean told him. "Muddies are not SUPPOSED to like meds. Can't just take them without a fight."

"But these are damn GOOD meds," Sam assured him. "Had 'em at kennels all the time."

"Not the freakin' point," Dean rejoined.

Castiel, now trying to look uninterested, dragged some jars out the fridge and got busy making himself a big peanut butter and jelly sandwich, with plenty peanut butter and big globs of sticky, sweet strawberry jelly. Dean's mouth began to water of it's own accord.

The angel took the sandwich back into the living room, humming to himself nonchalantly. Dean and Sam followed on his heels.

Castiel settled himself back on the couch, switched on the TV and began watching the Heavenly City News, whilst munching on half his sandwich. The other half of the sandwich lay on its plate on the couch's armrest. Dean quietly approached from behind and plopped down with his nose an inch from the plate, imbibing the tempting scent of PB & J.

"Go on, dude. Snatch it," Sam urged, over his shoulder.

Dean was mildly shocked. "That'd be wrong," he hissed. "That'd be stealin'."

"Master won't mind. Master won't punish you for sumthin' like that," Sam coaxed him, like a devil on his shoulder.

"Nope, mudz," Dean retorted righteously. "Gonna beg."

He switched on his best heart-melting, puppy-dog expression. Castiel noticed what he was up to, out of the corner of his eye, but he pretended to be engrossed in his TV show. After a couple minutes, he picked up the plate and casually placed it on the floor within the muddie's easy reach.

Dean hesitated barely a second before diving on it and guzzling it down. Sam burst out laughing, his mirth only lessened by the nagging feeling that he'd missed out on his share of the snack.

Still it was worth it, this time.

Next morning, Dean staggered in from their apartments' communal back yard, his legs feeling a little weak and shaky.

"Done poopin', mudz?" Sam inquired casually, as he munched on a mud-biscuit.

"Yeah, finally, I reckon," Dean responded tiredly.

He had spent most of the morning relieving himself of his wormy burden in the yard. It wasn't his preference to defecate outdoors, but needs must. His litterbox didn't deserve what he had been expelling in those bushes.

"Now I'm feelin' kinda hollow," he complained.

"Fried, huh?" Sam chuckled. "C'mon, let's go sleep it off in the closet."

"Don't reckon I'm up for poky right now, mudz," Dean commented apologetically.

"'S OK. You can lay on top of me, dude. We can catch up on the poky tomorrow."

They sneaked away and insinuated themselves in the broom closet. Laying down on the floor, Sam pulled Dean into a comfortable naked spoon. Being the Alpha, Dean could never admit to enjoying a cuddle, but there were times when the big muddie's affectionate nature was very welcome.

After a few minutes silence, Sam began licking the back of Dean's neck fondly.

"You lick me, you gonna catch freakin' ooh-erh-ms off of me," Dean complained worriedly. "Don't want you to git sick, mudz."

Sam chuckled, gently stroking Dean's belly.

"Nah," he replied. "Swallowed MY meds like a good muddie."

"Oh yeah?"

Dean knew that for inappropriate muddie behaviour, but then very little that his companion did was exactly appropriate. Sam could be kind of a rebel. Secretly Dean liked that a lot. He also liked what Sam was doing to him right now.

"Yeah. Sam don't need to have 'em hid in a jelly sammich," Sam elaborated, nuzzling into his companion's neck.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise.

"There were meds in that jelly sammich?" he demanded. "Damn!"

Sam concealed his grin against Dean's skin.

"Told ya Master was freakin' smart."

The End

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A/N: Now I'm going to get back to working on my proper sequel.


End file.
